


Can I Come Up?

by TiyeTiye



Series: Ivar and Lisbet - 1920's AU [3]
Category: Keep Your Silence, Vikings - Fandom
Genre: Christmas Presents, F/M, Fireworks, Harlem, Lisbet being sneaky, New Year's Eve, New York City, Rooftop cuddles, Sneaking Around, utterly shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 15:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14358753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiyeTiye/pseuds/TiyeTiye
Summary: Ivar and Lisbet find a way to spend New Year's Eve together.





	Can I Come Up?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Keep Your Silence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732503) by [livebynight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livebynight/pseuds/livebynight). 



It’s past 11:00 PM, and her parents have long gone to sleep by the time Lisbet finally hears the familiar taps against her window. Sliding it open, there he is, standing in the alley by his bike, bundled up against the cold, holding a handful of stones and grinning up at her like a fool.

“Hey there Rapunzel,” Ivar calls, dropping his pebbles. “You going to let me come up?”

“You’re late! Where have you been?” Lisbet whispers down to him . Her breath sends up little clouds of frost in the chill winter air as she picks her way out onto the fire escape and begins to climb down.

“I’m sorry Chickadee, but Hvitserk needed my help with something at the club. You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

He steps back out of the way as Lisbet rides the last ladder down to street level, the gears now well-oiled and silent.

“You were late,” Lisbet chides as she comes to a stop right in front of him, standing on the lowest ladder rung. “You’re never late.”

Ivar grins at her and sidles a bit closer. “Were you  _worried_?” He angles in for a kiss, and Lisbet lets him have a quick peck, but her expression stays the same.

“Maybe,” she says.

“Why?” Another peck.

“Because Ivar, you’re  _you._ ”

“Aww, come on darlin’ you know I wouldn’t have missed this. It was bad enough not being able to see you on Christmas.” Another peck and Lisbet is beginning to melt into him. “Now can I come up? Ninety blocks is quite the ride in December.”

“Oh, right!” The reminder snaps Lisbet out of her reverie. She turns and starts back up the ladder, and when she glances back down catches Ivar watching her go.

“Hey, don’t you be getting any funny ideas mister! You keep those eyes somewhere nice and polite!”

Ivar doesn’t even bother looking ashamed as he grins up at her. “Oh yes ma’am, whatever you say.” He’s still grinning as Lisbet reaches the first landing and it doesn’t leave his face as he loops his crutches over his arm and pulls himself up to follow her.

Lisbet is already shivering by the time she makes it to the second floor, so she tells Ivar to go on up and find them some place out of the wind while she puts on some warmer clothes. Once she’s bundled up she grabs the quilts off her bed, sneaks a few more out of the linen closet down the hall, fishes the thermos of coffee she’d made earlier that evening out of its hiding place in the back of her closet, and pulls a suspiciously rattling flat box tied with a red ribbon out from under her bed. Tying everything up into a quilt she’d planned on washing anyway, she tosses the lot out her window onto the fire escape and climbs out after to follow Ivar.

She’s more than warm enough by the time she makes it past the fifth floor and up the fire escape to the roof of her building carrying her load. Pausing to let her eyes adjust to the moonlight she softly calls “ _Ivar?_ ”

A shadow detaches itself from the door to the stairwell. “Over here Chickadee!” comes Ivar’s reply, a bit too loud for Lisbet’s comfort, and she hurries over to him.  

“Hush! Don’t let Mama and Pops hear you!”

The shadow moves closer and now Lisbet can make out Ivar’s skeptical face.

“They’re not going to hear us Lisbet - they’re 30 feel down, and  _inside a brick building._ ”

Lisbet sighed. “You’re probably right….just….. can’t be too careful. Usually Pops is  _30 blocks away_ when we see each other.”

Ivar looks a bit sad as he takes her gloved hand and gives her a kiss on the knuckles. “And Pops does not like me.”

Lisbet shakes her head. “No he does not.”

“But you do.” He looks back up at her and the twinkle is back in his eyes that makes Lisbet’s heart skip a beat.

“Oh very much so.”

“I guess that will do then.” Lisbet snorts.

“Oh good I’m glad.”

Ivar reaches down to the bundle of quilts Lisbet left lying on the roof and grabs one end.

“Shall we?”

They have a surprisingly warm nest by the time Lisbet gets everything pulled out and arranged to her satisfaction. Huddled up against each other, Lisbet has her legs thrown over Ivar’s lap while he keeps one arm thrown over her shoulders to keep her close to his side. The coffee, and the generous slug of whiskey Ivar pours into the thermos helps keep the chill off, and they’re both verging towards giggly by the time Lisbet remembers the box.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Lisbet says as she paws around, searching for it. The ribbon is only slightly crumpled by the time she pulls it out from somewhere near Ivar’s foot and turns to hand it to him.

“Merry Christmas….and Happy New Year too I guess.”

“Aww Chickadee, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Of course I did,” Lisbet says. “It’s Christmas…and New Year’s…and at Christmas you’re supposed to give people gifts. That’s what it’s for. To help remind people that you care about them.”

Ivar just smiles and shakes his head as he takes the box from her. His eyes are delighted as he gives the box an experimental shake near his ear before he slowly unties the bow and lifts the lid. The smell of brown sugar and vanilla wafts up as Ivar’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Are these…?”

“Pralines.” Lisbet blurts out. “Ubbe said you like them. I hope you like them. I used my Mama’s recipe, and I saved up to buy real vanilla, but you’ve gone on and on about how her barbecue sauce recipe is  _wrong,_ so I hope these are—“ Ivar cuts her off with a kiss before she can get too far gone.

“I  _love_  pralines,” he reassures her once he pulls away. Lisbet still looks a bit hypnotized and he gives her a smug little smile as he pulls a candied pecan out of the box and pops it in his mouth, only to double over.

“Oh sweet  _Jesus_.”

“What?  _What?_ ” Lisbet says, clapping her hands over her mouth. Ivar sits back up, takes her face in both hands and kisses her, hard and quick.

“ _So good!_ ”

“Really?”

“ _Yes_  Lisbet,  _yes_ ” Ivar says, trying not to laugh at her reaction. “Best pralines I’ve had in years. Thank you.” He pulls her to him again and now his lips taste of brown sugar and whiskey. Lisbet hums happily as his arms tighten around her and winds her arms around his neck. She’s halfway on top of him when the first shell goes off, announcing the arrival of the New Year. Startled, she topples backwards, Ivar’s quick hand saving her from cracking her head.

“Careful now, careful!” he says before the two of them dissolve into laughter. Lisbet struggles up and resumes her original position, draping her legs over Ivar’s lap and leaning into his shoulder. They sit in silence for a few minutes, Ivar gently running his hands up and down her calves, watching the fireworks light up the night, before Ivar shifts around next to her, hunting for something in his coat pocket.

“What are you doing?” Lisbet asks.

“I um—, I actually got you something too.”

“Oh Ivar, I told you I don’t need anything! You already spoil me too much as it is!”

“Hush now, this is different. Besides, a very smart lady told me once that you’re supposed to give people gifts on Christmas to remind them that they’re cared for.”

And this  _is_  different. Instead of the usual, fresh from the jewelers shiny leather boxes that Ivar has given her before, this box is much smaller and covered in faded blue velvet. When Lisbet cracks it open, inside she sees a small gold and enamel pin, wrought in the shape of a hummingbird.

“Oh Ivar,” she says. “It’s  _beautiful_.”

“It was my mothers,” he says. “I wrote home and asked Helga to send it to me if she could find it. I thought it would suit you.”

“Oh but Ivar, I can’t take this—“

“Yes you can.”

“You really shouldn’t—“

“But I want to.”

“What about your brothers?”

“What  _about_  them?”

_“Ivar.”_

_“Lisbet.”_ Ivar takes both of her hands in his, folding them closed over the box.

“Please Lisbet? I want you to have it.  _She_  would want you to have it. I know she would. Please?”

Lisbet feels a stinging in her eyes and tells herself that it’s just the cold and the whiskey, but she nods.

“Alright then…. Thank you.”

Ivar smiles at her again, this time lit by flashes of red and gold. Pulling her into his side again, he gives her a soft kiss on the forehead.

“Merry Christmas Lisbet.”

“Merry Christmas Ivar.”

“And Happy New Year.”

“Happy 1929.”


End file.
